


Three Foot Casket

by Alliance (Xazz)



Series: Cypress Hall [55]
Category: Flight Rising
Genre: Attempted Rape, Child Abuse, Child Death, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Rape/Non-con Elements, Violence, mention of rape
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-26
Updated: 2018-09-17
Packaged: 2019-07-02 14:39:15
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 7
Words: 9,460
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15798594
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Xazz/pseuds/Alliance
Summary: Please mind the warnings. I didn't put them there for fun





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Please mind the warnings. I didn't put them there for fun

Azazel was wary. Astra had been in a good mood. That was never good. She should have no reason to be happy either. Usually she was just miserable but recently… happy. And he found her in her nesting room often. That was also unusual. For a blind moment, he was worried he'd broken her. That wouldn't do. Or maybe she'd finally come to her senses and decided to stop being a slut and realize he was the better option. She really was very lovely. Beautiful even. She was just disgusting on the inside. But so was he. They really would have worked out rather well if she wasn't busy opening her legs to someone else.

He was making his rounds past the hatching room. He was more attentive of them than usual. He was quite done with her spiriting his children away from under his nose. Those were his children and she had no right to give them to Johanna.

The door of the room was open halfway. He carefully opened it a bit and then slammed it open furious. The nest was empty! Again!

“Astra!” he bellowed and stormed up to her room. He seethed and twisted the knob with magic worked into his muscles. The lock broke. “Astra!” he barked and saw her on her bed, half behind the curtain that hung from the ceiling from a single point.

“You don't have to yell, Azazel, I'm right here,” she said and his eyes narrowed. Then he relaxed, confusion radiating through his entire body. In her lap was a hatchling. A skydancer with bright orange down with floral designs. His brow furrowed as his anger slowly leached out of his body. What… was going on?

“Uh…”

“Did you need something?” she asked him sharply.

He shook himself to bring himself back to reality. “Where are the other two, slut?” he asked cruelly.

“Fuck you,” she said even as she pulled back the curtain a bit and saw two skydancers curled up on the bed, sleeping on each other. They were practically the same dragon save that one of them had lighter horns than the other.

Azazel couldn't move. He was stunned stupid. For years he'd been fighting Astra on sending them to Johanna. She always snuck them out in the dead of night or when it was light out, knowing he wouldn't go above ground. Not while that horrible Abbadon was allowed to prowl the surface. He just stared at Astra as she gently stroked the hatchling’s crest. “Did you need something, Azazel?”

He stumbled forward. At last! After so long. She didn't protest when he came close. Then he grew wary again. Why was she being so calm? She'd done something. “What did you do?” he asked her.

“Nothing I wasn't already doing, you horror,” she said and pet the hatchling. He looked down at the hatchling in her lap. It looked… normal. He looked at the twins and his brain was slow to understand what he was seeing. He looked down at her. The color of their pelts was wrong. There was no way these were his children. Astra and his children were orange, yellow, and green. The twins were brown. Darker than Astra’s natural colors and there was no way that could happen unless-

“You— slut,” Azazel snarled.

“Says a rapist,” she hissed back. “Hey!” she yelled when he grabbed the orange hatchling in her lap by the neck. “Let him go!” and she lurched to her feet even as he lifted them up and examined them. “Azazel!” she hit him but he shoved her aside. Darkness coalesced around his fingers and the hatchling screamed as needles of darkness pierced their skin and splattered blood across the curtain. “No! You monster!” she screamed. The twins had woken up now and were pressing to the edge of the bed.

He turned his sun-like eyes on her. He dropped the lifeless hatchling and it splattered to the floor. She stared at him with wide green eyes. For the first time she looked afraid of him. “When will you get it through your pretty, stupid, head that you are mine?” he snarled and grabbed her by the neck with his bloody hand, shoving her back down to the bed by the throat. She clawed at him. “You were promised to me and you couldn't even keep your legs closed long enough for me to arrive?” he was furious. “You were a girl and already a whore,” he lifted her up a bit and slammed her back down on the mattress.

Her eyes glowed green and under her breath hissed out a curse. Sick green energy started spilling from her eyes, nose, and mouth. Where it touched his skin it sizzled and burned. He just tightened his fingers and let it burn his flesh. The smell of rotting flesh filled the room. “It’s a shame you’re a slut. I would have been proud of you for this otherwise,” he ripped his hand away and held it against his chest. The green energy rolled back up across her face and she swallowed it.

“Maybe if the first time you saw me you hadn't raped me we wouldn't be in this situation,” she hissed. “Get off of me before I rot away the rest of you.”

He chuckled darkly. “No, my dear,” and he showed her his hand. It was healed already. “You cannot rot what is already rotten. But I'm sure those little books of yours didn't tell you that did they?” He pressed her down again. Really he was impressed. It wasn't every day someone took up necromancy. Even rarer to be a Wind dragon. They were usually too sporadic to handle the meticulous nature of such magic. And he'd never come across a female necromancer. At least not one who couldn't have flayed the flesh from his body with a glance. Sweet, budding, Astra he could handle.

“Get off of me,” she snarled.

“Oh, my dear, I certainly will be. And then I'll take care of those unnecessary spawn of yours,” he smirked.

He saw her processing what he'd said. “You stay away from them,” she hissed.

“For now,” he stroked her cheek and she smacked him away. “I prefer you sweet, relax. You know it hurts less.”

“I'm going to kill you,” she hissed.

“You cannot rot what is already rotten, my dear,” he used magic to keep her hands down so she couldn't hit him. He did hate that. Usually, she was complacent but today she was fighty. She just gave a cry of frustration that shook the air and rattled his head. He shook his head to clear it.

“Get off me!” she screamed and the sound was a shockwave that made his antlers vibrate.

Two balls of fluff and feathers attacked him, shrieking. As they did they almost seemed to turn into griffins with claws like Idols and sharp beaks. One clamped onto his arm with their beak and the other raked his side with their claws. Their gems glowed brightly. He'd never seen that happen before. “Cute,” he grunted and tore them off him, throwing them across the room where the hatchlings collided with the wall and lay in a heap. “I'll take care of them later,” he said and leered down at Astra.

She screamed again and he had to cover his ears against the sound. “Shut. Up,” he grabbed a pillow and shoved it over her face. He didn't intend to suffocate her. He just wanted to block out the sound. “So annoying,” he grumbled and pushed his hair back from where it had fallen across his brow. He lifted the pillow and the sound was immediate. He put it back over her face. She struggled against it, her body bucking and trying to throw him off of her. “At least scream when someone bad has happened, Astra,” he tutted. She screamed against the pillow. “Such a drama queen.” He touched her throat and traced a symbol into her flesh. The screaming stopped abruptly. “There, better,” he removed the pillow. She opened her mouth to scream but no sound came out. She tries to swear at him but only her mouth moved but no sound was heard. She struggled against the magic bounds around her wrists but they held her there. “Much better,” he smirked. She looked away from him and at the wall where her spawn were still a crumpled pile against the corner. He'd take care of those things momentarily. First, he needed to deal with Astra.

It was such a pity she was so beautiful, talented, and powerful and completely hated him. She would have been an ideal mate for him and he was attracted to her. And not just for her looks. The fact that she had decided all on her own to study necromancy and that she was like him attracted him immensely. “Just relax,” he touched her face with awkward gentleness and she spit at him. “Don't make this worse for yourself,” he snarled and grabbed her face harder.

He was changing his position against her when he heard a strange noise. It sounded like a growl. He looked over his shoulder at the door. “Abbadon,” he said slowly seeing the Wildclaw standing there. Abbadon’s growl deepened, his crest flaring aggressively. “You're not supposed to be down here,” he said like he was commenting on an oncoming thunderstorm. Abbadon took a measured step into the room. “Don't do something you'll regret now.”

“Get away from my mistress,” Abbadon growled. Azazel didn't like the sound of that. He looked down at Astra. He'd started to undo her pants and she was just laying there smugly.

“What did you do, hmm?” he asked her. The glyph on her throat brightened as she tried to talk.

“Azazel,” Abbadon snarled. He stepped further into the room.

“You're a naughty girl,” Azazel said and got off of her, pulling his pants closed as he did.

“Leave, now,” Abbadon snapped and a bit of acidic drool dribbled from his mouth. “Before you give me the pleasure of sinking my teeth into your throat. I'm sure Aten will forgive me of leaving him the honor.”

Azazel looked at the Wildclaw. He took the threat seriously. Few things could hurt him but Abbadon was a threat to his continued existence. He snapped his fingers and Astra lurched into a sitting position and then off the bed as he took her binds off her. Abbadon moved between him and Astra who was kneeling next to her worthless spawn, tending to them. “Always a pleasure, Abbadon,” Azazel said nicely.

“Soon, it will be,” Abbadon growled and turned his body to keep looking at Azazel as he walked towards the door.

“Until next time my dear,” Azazel called to Astra.

“Drop dead,” she called back furiously, holding one of her hatchlings against her chest. Its wing was twisted.

“Don't leave them alone,” Azazel said sweetly. Astra and Azazel just growled at him. He left the room and closed the metal door behind him. Stupid bitch.


	2. Chapter 2

Astra was hunched over her hatchlings. They were breathing but just barely so. The strike against the wall hadn’t been kind to them. They were _infants_ and Azazel had treated them like nothing. Like dolls. Like they were worthless. She bit her lower lip to not cry and squeezed her eyes against the liquid balanced on her lower eye lid. The metal door closed and she only glanced at it to make sure he really was gone. Abbadon still stood in the room, glaring at the door.

She reached out with her empathy to make sure her two surviving children were alive, well. They were alive. Well was relative. The girl had a broken wing and the boy’s forehead gem had a hairline crack nearly straight down the middle. He wasn’t conscious and his breathing was slow. The girl whimpered when she held them. “It’s okay,” she whispered. “I’m here.”

“Astra,” Abbadon pulled her from trying to comfort her children. She looked over at him.

“Thank you,” she said.

“You _need_ to get rid of him,” Abbadon said through clenched teeth.

“Abbadon— not now,” she looked away, stroking her son’s head and face. “One of my children was just murdered.”

Abbadon moved around the room but she wasn’t looking at him. She needed to get her surviving children to a healer. “What are you going to do with this one?” Abbadon asked and she heard the rasping scrape of fur and down on the stone floor. She refused to look. She didn’t want to see their corpse.

“I don’t know,” she whispered.

Abbadon said nothing. “You’re a necromancer ain’t you?” he asked her.

She turned and glared at him. He was holding her dead son by the wing joint like he would a chicken, his body hanging limp. “Put him down,” she snapped, what she had planned to say escaping her.

“He’s dead. What’s he care?”

“I said put him down!” she shrieked and stood up. “I command you.”

Abbadon looked her over and dropped the dead hatchling making her flinch. “You’re too soft to be a necromancer,” Abbadon scoffed. “No wonder you needed me to come.”

“You want to kill him anyway,” she snapped and went over to the body. She collected it and put it by the door in a more natural position like he was sleeping. She shut herself off from her jewel so she wouldn’t be forced to feel how _empty_ his body was.

“I told you not to call me unless you were ready to end it. But you aren’t. Instead, you’re here messing around with this,” he scoffed at her two living hatchlings. “Get your priorities in line, Astra.”

“ _My_ _priorities_?” she demanded. “How does not giving Azazel what he wants sound? Johanna grows restless for this to be over. I just needed time.”

“You have had much time to deal with this problem. Yet it had continued for _years_. My place is not above ground. It is in these tunnels. I am a poor warden of the Warren top side. Are you sure you don’t like it?”

She extended a hand out to him, her hand in a twisted claw. Sickly green energy poured from the cuticles of her nails to drip onto the floor where they sizzled like acid. Astra stepped over to him and held her hand just within touching range. He growled low in his throat, his crest back. “Do not insinuate that I enjoy being _raped_ you hardly dragon-thing,” she whispered tightly. “Johanna doesn’t know you exist either and she might never. Plaguebringer gave you life but you rot just like anything else.”

“You’re too soft,” he said, his red eyes piercing. He took a step back, business-like, tucking his wings against his back and looked at the dead hatchling. “Shall I tell Fjord we need a casket then?”

Her rage drained away in an instant. “I—“ the magic dribbled harmlessly off his fingers and dissipated into vapor and smoke.

“Well?” he asked and looked at her over his shoulder. “Or do you want to do it?”

Astra swallowed. “I- I will,” she swallowed. “I need to take my children to Vrej.”

“They cannot stay here.”

“I know.”

“They should be with their-

“I _know_ ,” she snarled. He tutted at her. She let out a harsh breath. “I will take them out of the Warren. Aten will take care of them. It’s too dangerous for them here.” But she didn’t want to. She wanted to keep them. For _years_ she’d wanted this. Wanted to thwart Azazel forcing her to be pregnant with his children for his own ends. She remembered what Azazel had done to one of their children who had lingered too long in the Hall and was out of his reach. Aten had told her. She’d tried to be detached from the death but knowing a child of hers had died in agony over Azazel’s tantrum had pained her. She would make sure Aten looked after these ones more closely.

“Now?” Abbadon asked her.

“Yes,” she swallowed. She’d hardly had a few hours with her new children and now they would be out of her reach for a time. A long time. Until Azazel was dead and who knew when that would be. “Bring him up to the surface, you are coming with me to the Serpent’s Teeth,” she said and went over to the twins. She hadn’t even named them. She hadn’t had time yet. She’d name her son before she buried him. She picked up the girl and brought her to her desk where she could splint her wing. She cried and squeaked in protest, flapping her wing just making it worse until Astra soothed her with her empathy. Once it was splinted she went to gather up her unconscious son. He was dead weight in her arms but she carried him. His sister would have to walk. Astra wasn’t the biggest girl. Carrying one hatchling was quite enough for her.

“Let’s go,” Abbadon said and she swallowed when she looked at him. He had the dead hatchling draped over a shoulder like a sack of grain. She nodded and coaxed her daughter along with her. “Before he brings something from below, cmon now,” he beckoned and Astra followed him from her room up to the entrance of the Warren.


	3. Chapter 3

On particularly humid days the colony was still. Serthis were cold-blooded but even they had a maximum for how much heat they would tolerate. Most of the colony were in the waters around Vrej’s clinic and home. She had one in a cot recovering from a scale-back bite but the others had made themselves scarce.

Well all but Sobek. He was sitting behind Vrej, his feet in the bucket next to hers. The bucket had a series of ice runes stamped into it and charged by Kabir. It meant the water stayed a pleasantly cool temperature for a while until Kabir had to come recharge them. The bucket was for just making cool drinking water but she and Sobek had their feet in it to cool down. Sobek was behind her carefully using a wide-toothed comb to section her hair for braiding. Serthis always had elaborate hairstyles that denoted their rank. Despite appearances, Sobek’s hair was long and stunningly red. He usually wore it in a crown of braids to keep it out of his face while hunting out in the swamp. Today he was braiding her hair and getting some cheek and neck kissing in for good measure. Now and then he’d rub his foot against hers but she was only sort of paying attention to him.

Jessabelle had gotten some new books in from a recent trading caravan. Vrej had found a novel in there she liked. It was a horribly trashy romance novel about an Imperial falling in love with a Pearlcatcher back in the early part of the Age— before Imperials and Pearlcatchers had gotten over their hatred of each other. It was very over the top but she couldn’t put it down. There was a series of them too and halfway through the first one Vrej had run to the trading post and— not finding Jessabelle— had begged Dodge to put in an order for the rest the next time a caravan came through.

There was a firm handed knock on the door. It started Vrej and she nearly dropped her book into the bucket! She would have been beside herself if that had happened! She was just getting to the good parts where Rowia, the Imperial, was about to confess her feelings for Xanthar, the Pearlcatcher. “Visitors?” Sobek asked, his hands tangled in her hair against her scalp making a braid close to the skin.

“Oh who almost killed themselves now?” she groaned and they both yelled in distress when she stood up. She nearly sent Sobek tumbling forward as he was still holding her hair and she almost crashed back down onto him for the same reason. “Sobek,” she complained. He took his hands off her. “Save the page for me,” she thrust the book at him.

“Okay,” he said and she wiped her wet feet on the rug as the person knocked again.

“Coming coming just a second!” she called. She opened the door to a strange sight. It was that Stitcher girl! Vrej had never met her in person before. Just heard the rest of the Hall talk about her. She was holding a hatchling Skydancer in her arms. “Hello,” Vrej said, curious.

“Vrej, I need some help,” she apologized. Plagebringer’s spit what was this girl’s name again?

“Of course. What’s the matter?”

“He- he got hurt,” she turned the hatchling’s face toward her. She could see some swelling around his crest and face and his antenna was smashed. But the damning thing was the super thin crack in his indigo gem. “He hadn’t woken up since it happened.”

“When did it happen? May I?” she indicated she wanted to take the hatchling.

“Yes, of course,” she offered the hatchling to her. “And— my daughter has a broken wing.”

“I see,” Vrej wanted to ask what had happened but she knew better. You didn’t ask about Stitchers. They were hardly good. They’d changed Sobek to the way he was now and she was still getting used to that but she knew Stitchers always collected their debts and you got nothing from Stitchers without making a deal. “Sobek!” she called back into the house. “I need you.”

He hardly had dried his feet before appearing. He really got too excited about innocent things. “Yes?” he asked her, his red eyes bright. Then they traveled to the Stitcher girl and his face went dead white, his eyes wide. The girl paid him no mind. She was far more worried about her son.

“Where is your daughter?” Vrej asked the Stitcher.

“Here,” she stepped to the side on the porch and led a little skydancer practically identical to the boy into the cottage. The wing was splinted but not well. Vrej frowned.

“I see. Sobek, take the girl into the back room,” Vrej said and carried the boy away. The Stitcher girl made to follow her. “You can stay out here in the waiting room,” Vrej said shortly.

“But I-

“I have other patients than your children. You can wait. Your daughter won’t take long,” Vrej said firmly. The girl nodded weakly and sat in one of the chairs in the living room.

Sobek had practically run away from the Stitcher girl with the child and taken her into the back clinic where he sat her down on one of the cots. Dïr was laying in one of the other cots, his arm in a sling and dead to the world. Vrej sat the boy on another cot. “Take the splint off and tell me about the break,” Vrej said as she looked the boy over. His head was swollen and there wasn’t just one crack his jewel but a _chip_. That wasn’t good. She also wasn’t sure she could do anything about it either.

She coated her fingers in Plague magic and gently felt around his head. Nothing felt broken in his skull or neck and she felt no fractures in his wishbone or scapulas. That was good. A broken wishbone was dangerous for dragons. The magic allowed her to probe deeper into his flesh than just her fingertips could detect for internal bleeding or bruising she couldn’t see. As she did she heard Sobek taking the splint off.

“I didn’t know the Stitchers had children,” Vrej said.

“I heard,” Sobek muttered. “Astra always has them.”

“Astra? Is that her name? How do you know?” she asked.

“Ah- I’ve heard Aten speak of it,” Sobek fumbled with the splint and the hatchling cried out in protest.

“Is everything alright?” Astra called from beyond the curtain separating the clinic from the living room.

“It’s fine. Sobek is just an idiot,” Vrej said and gave him a look.

“He’s helped me with some hunts,” he continued, “And _all_ he talks about is his sister Astra. He’s obsessed, it’s unhealthy.”

“If that’s not the pot calling the kettle black I don’t know what is,” Vrej rolled her eyes and rubbed her hands together. Her eyes glowed as she collected a semi-solid red paste-like magic between her palms. It would reduce the swelling rapidly. But there was nothing she could do about the jewel. Sobek said nothing to her remark. He knew she was right.

Once she finished applying the paste to the boy’s head she went to the awake hatchling who was panting hard from stress and pain, her yellow eyes wild with fear. “It’s okay,” she said gently. “Sobek, hold her still,” she instructed. “Extend her wing,” she said.

Sobek used one hand to hold the hatchling in place and the other to extend the wing out straight. The hatchling screamed in pain. Vrej ignored it. She just coated her hands in a jelly-like substance made of pure Plague magic and dragged her fingers gently along the broken joint.

Astra wasn’t so keen to ignore the screaming. She threw the curtain open. “What are you doing to her?” she demanded. The hatchling was trying to struggle away but Sobek was strong from spending most days wrestling toridae and other swamp creatures and hardly noticed her squirming.

“Healing her,” Vrej said candidly.

“You’re hurting her,” Astra stalked forward, sickly green magic dripping from her fingertips.

Vrej looked up at her with wide eyes as she was healing the hatchling. “Get out of my clinic,” she said seriously.

“Release my daughter,” Astra snarled. “You’re hurting her.”

“Get out of my house you freak!” Vrej yelled and Astra shrieked when she sprayed her with concentrated Plague magic. It sizzled against her skin and she dropped to a knee. “Sobek, remove her,” she barked. “Dïr, _wake_ ,” and the bulky serthis warrior was awakened from his magic-induced sleep. “Take this woman out of my home,” she ordered.

“Give me my children,” Astra hissed as Dïr slipped off the cot.

“Necromancers aren’t welcome in a house of _healing_ ,” Vrej hissed, fanning her wings a bit. “I’m doing these children a favor letting them heal away from you where you can’t corrupt them. Sobek, Dïr,” she added sharply.

Astra shrieked furiously when the humi and serthis grabbed her by the arms and dragged her out of the clinic. “VREJ! You’ll regret this,” Astra screamed as she was pulled away.

“Tell the rest of the colony Stitchers are _not_ welcome in the Fangs,” Vrej said. Astra cried out indignantly as she was tossed off the porch onto the path stones leading up to the hut. They didn’t come back immediately meaning they were dealing with her so Vrej turned her attention back to the very scared little skydancer. “It’s okay, sweetie. I know it hurts a lot but look, your wing is almost healed,” she said sweetly and gently opened the wing. The hatchling looked at it, impressed. “Now just be a good girl and let me finish before your monster of a mother comes back.” She stretched the wing out again to finish the healing. The hatchling cried but not as loudly as before and then the break was completely healed and Vrej let her go. “See, all done,” and Vrej hugged her. The hatchling whimpered and pressed against her.

“Vrej! Give me back my children!” Astra yelled from outside.

“Don’t turn into your mother, cutie,” Vrej said and helped her off the cot. She picked her brother up, who was still unconscious and took them both out of the clinic.

Outside the front door the entire colony had gathered, showing their sharp claws and not a few weapons. Say what you wanted about Beastclan there weren’t better warriors than serthis. Even the ones who didn’t protect the colony were dangerous with a weapon. “Vrej!” Astra snarled when she saw her.

“Calm yourself, freak,” Vrej said cruelly. “You’re a disgusting necromancer and thought you could come into _my_ home without repercussions for threatening me?” Like most Plague dragons Vrej _abhorred_ the undead. It went against the natural order of things. When a thing died that was it. It was to remain dead. It had not survived, it had been weak and thus undeserving of being alive at all. Vrej was soft for a Plague dragon of course. She was a healer. Plague dragons thought healing was a weakness. Vrej thought it was just an extension of the Plaguebringer’s will. If healers had the power to embolden and strengthen those who were so strong to survive death but needed help getting back to their feet then who was she to argue? “Your daughter is healed. You’re welcome.” She gently pushed the skydancer towards her mother. A rattle went off from one of her serthis.

“And my son?” Astra growled.

“I did what I could for him. Jewel damage is a death sentence for skydancers. You want it healed, find someone else. Plague knows better than to heal what is on death’s door anyway. Escort this Stitcher _out_ of my territory,” she ended in a dangerous growl. Astra bared her teeth at her and grabbed her daughter by the wing.

“I will,” Sobek said. “Give him to me,” he put his hands up to take the child from Vrej. She put him into his arms.

“Do not come back here, necromancer. Your kind is not welcome.”

“I won’t,” Astra hissed. Sobek approached her and she snatched the hatchling from his arms and stalked away. Sobek followed her, pulling the female hatchling along behind him

Vrej stood there, hands on her hips until Astra was out of her direct line of sight and had entered the woods to the north. She looked around at the others. “Keep an eye open for her and other Stitchers. If you see one call someone with fangs. You’re permitted to bite if they set foot in the Fangs.” There was a tremble of a murmur through the assembled serthis, almost excitement. “Tell Sobek to wash himself before he comes back inside when he returns. I do not want her to soil my home anymore.”

“Yesss, Vrrrej,” several said. She nodded and then went back into her home, slamming the door loudly after her.


	4. Chapter 4

Astra crashed through the tangled branches and brush of the Serpent’s Fangs, crossing the shallow water between it and Which Island, furious. That she’d just been tossed out of a healer’s hut with still one broken child. Abbadon had already gone to give her dead child to the druids in the Tangle so they could prepare his body. Now she was alone with that serthis turned humi.

Once on Which Island soil, feet away from the tea farm, she turned on Sobek who had carried her daughter over the water. “ _You_ ,” she hissed. “You better be lucky I could undo this transformation I gave you right now.” He paled.

“I’m sorry,” he said and swallowed. “I— she isn’t usually so hostile to guests.”

“Well she was to me! I am innocent here!”

“Astra you don’t need to yell at me, I know,” Sobek had shied away from her, terrified of her fury.

“She refused to help my son,” she spat.

“Vrej’s power has limits. Please. If she could have healed his jewel she would have.”

“She’s the only healer in the Hall. Now what am I to do?” she demanded.

“She… is not the only one,” he said slowly. “There is Pera. But… if you got so upset about Vrej healing your daughter’s wing I don’t know if you will want to see Pera. His healing is… unorthodox.”

“Speak sense, serthis,” Astra growled.

“He’ll burn the imperfection away. It can be… painful. I had to seek Pera out a few time after my transformation as Vrej refused to treat me.”

“She’s a bitch. I don’t know why you like her-“ she looked up when a shadow flew over them. Her eyes widened and she bounced a bit in place. It was Aten! Her brother landed with a hard thud, throwing out dead leaves and dust. “Aten!” she cried and in moments he went from a great imperial to a tall humi. His hair was grown out again and his antlers were starting to grow in again. Azazel, the freak, didn’t shed his antlers.

She rushed over to him and he embraced her. “Astra, what are you doing- what’s this?” he asked, looking down at her holding her son.

“My son,” she said. “He’s hurt.”

“Did Vrej-

“She threw me out,” she growled. She hated Vrej. “But I hear there is another healer in the Hall now; Pera.”

“Yes,” Aten said slowly, taking the entire scene in. “Sobek what are you doing here?”

“Making sure she leaves Vrej’s territory,” he swallowed.

“Well she is. So get,” Aten growled, his arm tightening protectively around her.

“I— yes,” he looked away.

“Wait,” she said before he could leave properly. He swallowed as he looked at her. “My poison,” she reminded him. “Is it ready?”

He slumped a bit. “Y-yes,” he said. “It’s… potent. I wouldn’t suggest using it.”

“But it will weaken?”

“Yes,” he nodded. “It took a lot of toridae to get the mixture right. I’ve hunted them out of the area,” he frowned. “This disrupts the natural order of things-

“I don’t care,” Astra cut him off. She really didn’t. “Bring it to the Warren, give it to Abbadon. He will ensure I get it.”

“And when I do our deal is done?” Sobek ventured.

“Yes and I won’t feel like I don’t need to keep your head on your shoulders when you throw me out of places,” she hissed. He swallowed and touched her neck.

“I will do that. Bye,” and he walked off quickly.

She looked up at her brother. “How’d you find me?”

“Abbadon came to the Tangle. I saw him speaking with Spayar. I wasn’t sure what for but he said you were near the Serpent’s Fangs. What happened?”

“Azazel,” she hissed.

He looked confused. “But why would he hurt his own children?”

“They aren’t,” she said.

He sighed a little. “Astra-

“Take me to Pera. My son has a cracked jewel.”

He winced. “That’s not good,” he said softly to himself. “Yes.” He transformed back into an imperial with a grinding sound of bone and the sick qwelsh of skin and muscle moving against each other. “Get on, I’ll take you.” She nodded and lifted her daughter up onto his back before climbing up with her son in her lap. Aten took off immediately and flew north across Which Island.


	5. Chapter 5

She’d never seen a dead body before. She’d seen dead bees and bugs before and she’d watched her daddy help her papa kill livestock before. Tyger was no stranger to seeing things killed because she lived on a farm but dead livestock wasn’t the same as seeing a dead body.

A scary red and black dragon came to the Tangle. Her daddy had been the first one to find him and then he’d called Spayar and Tassa. The dragon had a orange and purple dragon on their shoulder. When Spayar had come he’d let it drop onto the ground where it thudded on the ground like a sack of grain. Tyger hid further around the tree she was behind. She bet her daddy would be upset if he knew she was there. They talked. Well Spayar talked at the red Wildclaw. His wings were stiff and agitated as he spoke.

“What’cha doing over here, Tyger?” she jumped and whipped around.

“Noooothing,” she said looking up at Chase.

“Looking at something?”

“NooooOOooo,” she lied.

“Hmm,” he looked over her shoulder. She couldn’t see his mouth but his mustache and beard twitched down. “Not good stuff over there. Let’s go somewhere else,” he offered his his hand.

“Who is that?” she asked as she grabbed his hand.

“I don’t know,” he said. “Vex is making some new fun outfits. Do you want to model for her?”

“Yes!” Tyger cried excitedly.

Chase smiled at her. “Okay. Let’s go see her then, hmm? You know she likes dressing you up.”

“Yes,” she said brightly and skipped to keep up with Chase’s long strides as they headed for Vrej’s work shop. Tyger could hear the clack of her loom under her tree even from here.


	6. Chapter 6

Astra arrived at the Tangle with Aten and her children to the druids gathered in a circle, talking. She swallowed. They were surrounding the obvious shape of a hatchling. Aten put his hand on her shoulder. “I will take him, you talk to them,” he offered and she was glad she could relinquish her son to her brother. She took a deep breath and approached the adults.

They stopped talking when she got near. “Astra,” Spayar said, hardly a greeting, almost an accusation of what the _fuck_ had she brought a dead hatchling to them for.

“Hello,” she said wishing she felt braver than she was.

“That wildclaw who came said this child belonged to you,” Tassa said and she looked _so_ disappointed. Astra wanted to run and hide. Far more than Savathün Astra considered Tassa as a surrogate mother. Tassa had cared for her and Aten when they’d been children, treated them like her own children. Tassa was kind and wonderful despite her usual disposition towards others and seeing her disapproving look hurt more than Astra was expecting.

“Yes,” she said taking a deep breath.

“What is it with your children that you just can’t keep them?” Spayar asked, being unintentionally cruel. Tassa smacked his arm and hummed angrily at him. He just rolled his eyes.

“I know you— he needs to be buried,” she sniffed and stood up straight. She knew what everyone in the Hall thought of her. That Stitcher girl who’d been taken in by Savathün and who _knew_ what had been done to her over the years. All anyone knew was that now and then her children appeared in North Face for Johanna to find homes for amid her numerous contacts and allies. “I know the druids handle such affairs.”

“We do,” Spayar said, crossing his arms.

“Don’t be mean, Spayar. Her child just died,” a blonde haired man she didn’t know said. He hadn’t been here when Astra had been taken in. That or she didn’t remember him.

Spayar didn’t move. “Anything we need to know about this body?”

“I assure I don’t know what that means,” Astra said tightly. “He was murdered what do you want from me?” she demanded.

The blonde jabbed Spayar in the ribs and Tassa pushed him out of the way. “Of course, dear. I’m sorry for your loss,” she took Astra’s hand. “We’ll have to speak with Fjord about a box to be made.”

“Thank you,” she bowed her head a little.

“How did he die?” Tassa asked.

“Magic. I don’t know,” she shook her head slightly. “I didn’t hear the spell. His throat was just crushed.” Tassa pet her hand.

“No necromancy?” she asked.

“I don’t know. Probably not. The monster who killed him wanted him dead, not a puppet.” Azazel had wanted to make sure she suffered and make her watch just so she knew just _how_ powerless she really was to him.

Tassa nodded. “I’ll take care of it. You can go to the Conservatory if you’d like. Better than that hole in the ground.”

“Thank you. I— yes, I need to not be underground.”

“I don’t know how you do it as a Wind dragon. You have more fortitude than I,” Tassa said to try and make her feel better. Astra didn’t have it in her to tell Tassa that more than once she felt she’d been driven mad by the tunnels and underground and she’d blindly sought the open sky before she suffocated.

“I— yes,” she just said.

Tassa looked around, “Moon, Moon!” she called to a young woman barely older than Astra who was weeding in a herb patch a ways away.

“Aye!” Moon called back.

“Come here, please.”

“Aye!”

“Moon will get you situated in the Conservatory. Someplace you and your children can relax until you figure out what you’re going to do with them.”

Astra went cold. She hadn’t thought of that until just then. Naively she thought that she could keep them but of course she couldn’t. Of _course_ she couldn’t have her children close by. Azazel would kill them too. She nodded and Moon came over to them, a slight spring in her step. “Hey-ya, what’s up?” she asked Tassa.

“Moon, this is Astra. Please take her into the Conservatory. She has two hatchlings with her,” Tassa said.

“Sure thing, boss lady,” Moon was still bright. The men had picked her hatchling up and taken it somewhere and Moon hadn’t seen him. For the best. “Just come with me, Astra, we’ll find you a nice room,” she promised.

“Thank you,” she said and motioned for Aten to follow her. He brought the children with him and followed after her and Moon to the big building— really the only building— in the entire Tangle.

It was oddly cool in the bird cage-looking building despite the green house-like ceiling. Dense foliage grew all over the walls. Creeping vines and plants sprouting from cracks in the mortar. Flowers filled every crack and crevice and she’d never seen such a bright and lively building. It was a stark contrast from the home she lived in now. “Oh,” she said to herself, looking around.

“It’s nice, isn’t it?” Moon asked. “So here’s a lounge, you can stay here until Tassa is ready for whatever it is she’s doing for you.”

“Thank you,” Astra entered the room. The furniture was nicer than anything she’d ever seen in the Warren. It was new a with soft wood that felt like it had been molded into the perfect comfortable shape by druidic magic and then padded on the seat and back. The other was a lounge couch almost the same color as her wings.

“Of course. Don’t know what Tassa has you here for but it’ll work out. Tassa always gets things done, even if she has to beat Spayar over the head to do it,” she giggled. “See you,” she waved before gently closing the door.

Aten set the two hatchlings on the couch before shifting into his Imperial form. He just barely fit in the space and that was only because he wasn’t a fully grown dragon yet. Not yet. Not for his breed. “Come here,” he said gently. She went over to him and he dragged a big pillow over, setting it under his forearms. She crawled into his embrace and he coiled his neck around her. She pressed her face against the top of his head, her hands in his ruby mane and after a few seconds started to cry. Fat and ugly tears rolled down her cheeks onto his hide and into his mane. He said and did nothing except to nuzzle her the best he could.

When she could control herself she let go of Aten and wiped her eyes. She couldn’t help but laugh when Aten licked her face, getting rid of the tears easily. “Stop that you big oaf,” she said, batting him away. He just rumbled in amusement. She wiped her face with her tunic and looked around at where Aten had left her children. Her neck tightened. The sofa was empty.

She attempted to get up with a lurch but Aten held her down. “Relax, they’re exploring,” he said. “Over there,” he used his head to indicate and pointed at part of the room with different chairs. She relaxed. He laid his head down against his chest and forearms so he was eye level with her. “So Tassa is… taking care of it I guess. Now what?”

Her lips went thin, her neck tight. “They can’t come back with me to the Warren,” she said softly. “Azazel killed one, he’ll kill the others if I let him get close.” He hummed a little.“Johanna-

“Is powerless,” he said. “I told you what happened to that one who stayed in North Face too long.”

“Yes,” she said softly, looking away. She didn’t care about that child but knowing how they’d died was still traumatic.

“There’s someone Azazel can’t touch, though,” Aten said.

“Who?” she asked and touched his eye ridge.

“I… made friends with the Progenitor, you know-

“You did?” her eyes were wide. He’d never told her that!

“Yes. I— it’s complicated.”

“Did you tell her everything?”

“I did. She’s so easy to talk to I just did it.”

“You trust her?”

“Of course! She’s the Progenitor. She also doesn’t like Savathün or Azazel and is the only reason Savathün didn’t burn the skin off my flesh. She likes it even less knowing what’s going on there, what’s in her territory.”

“Savathün always said the Progenitor was weak.”

She… has her issues, but I assure you; she isn’t weak.” Astra said nothing and turned to put her back against Aten’s neck, watching her children. They explored the room and she whistled to them sweetly. They looked and bounded over to her. Aten lifted his forearm so they could climb into the circle with her.

“She’d protect my babies?” Astra asked, stroking the hatchlings’ heads.

“If you asked, yes, probably.”

Astra frowned. “I will.”

She held them to her, filling her nose with their new baby smell and her fingers with their soft fur. “You have names for them?”

“I hadn’t had a chance to name them properly. I was too excited when they hatched and I was thinking of them and then… Azazel came,” she squeezed her little boy who squeaked after a moment.

“Well you have time now. What will you name them?”

Astra stroked the girl’s crest, tickling behind her horns. “Her name is Ilia.”

“That’s pretty,” Aten said approvingly.

“And Ado,” she rubbed her thumb against his newly healed gem with a soft smile.

Aten huffed. “Just _cannot_ escape the A names, hmmm?” he teased her.

“It’s a nice name,” she protested.

“It is,” he agreed with a snicker. “Ilia and Ado… I like it,” he butted his nose against Ado’s head gently. “The… other one? Did you have a name for him?”

“No… but I do now.”

“What is it?” he asked.

“Usha,” she said.

Aten frowned. “After our father?”

“Yes.”

“Astra— _why_?” he grimaced.

“Because the irony is sweet,” she said bitterly. Their parents had been proponents of the light, brilliant paladins of the sun. And they had sent them away and they’d ended up far from the sun and only escaped under pain of death.

Aten frowned. “I guess,” he said softly.

“He’s dead anyway, just like our father is to us.”

“Astra—

She gave him a hard look, “What?”

His bright Wind eye searched hers and after a moment he just nodded slowly. “Okay,” he put his head down again. “You have Ado and Ilia now so I guess that’s what matters. I just wish you… weren’t so volatile with your emotions sometimes.”

“Aten, please,” she closed her eyes and took a deep breath.

“I worry about you. You could just leave-

“And lose all those books?” she demanded. “There are books in Savathün’s library I will find no where else and those books are giving me such… power.” Aten frowned but said nothing. “Power enough that no one will _ever_ think to do this to me again. So no lowly _worm_ would think he can bend me to his will. I cannot lose that now.”

“And Sobek? He said he was done.”

“I will feed it to Azazel slowly until he can’t fight back. Then— then you can rip his throat out,” she smiled at him and he growled approvingly.


	7. Chapter 7

When Rahab crawled up onto her shoulder Layali knew someone was here. She carefully put her book away and left her room. “Aten,” she said and hopped down the stairs, bounding over to him cheerfully. “What are you doing here?” She frowned. “Why do you look angry?”

“Angry?” he asked, brows furrowed.

“Yes.”

“I’m not angry.”

“Okay,” she didn’t believe him but let him go. “What are you doing here?” she asked him again. She hadn’t seen him in a long while.

He looked behind himself and beckoned with an arm. Two newborn hatchlings toddled into her Tree along with Astra who stood very poised and respectful to her.

“Childs,” Rahab said into her ear, his tail curling around her neck.

“What is this?” she asked.

“I need a favor,” Aten said and licked his lips.

“What?” she asked.

“Can they stay with you?”

“Who?”

“The children.”

Layali looked them over. “Who’s are they?”

“Mine,” Astra said defensively.

“I see. Why?”

“Because there were three but Azazel murdered him. So now there are two,” Astra said.

“I see. I’m sorry.”

“So is everyone else. That doesn’t change the fact that one of my children was slaughtered and if left alone or with anyone else in the Hall Azazel will find them, and kill them too,” Astra said. Her entire face was a tight mask she was trying desperately to control.

“I see,” she steepled her fingers and walked over to the hatchlings. She looked up at the tall Aten briefly and he wouldn’t meet her eyes. She looked at Astra and met her eyes until Astra also looked away. Then she crouched down in front of the children and offered them her hand. She spoke Sihngari to them. It was an impossible language to learn outside of the Plateau but unlike many draconic languages it was a true one. It was a language spoken by their god to his children and was understood by everything that couldn’t speak at all. “Do you want to stay with me?” she asked them. One chirped. “If you don’t you will be in danger.” Another chirp and then they started chirping together. “Okay,” she stood back up. “Come with me,” and she led them away from their mother.

“Layali-“ Astra spoke her name in a panic, her eyes wide, terrified, her cold mask cracked along a thin line that was starting to crumble.

“Yes?” she spoke draconic again for their benefit.

“They’ll be safe with you? Right? Azazel can’t reach them here?”

She stared at Astra a moment, face impassive, then her lips curled into a smile. “From what Aten has told me Azazel thinks himself many things, and is maybe half of them. He certainly _isn’t_ more powerful than me.”

“How can you be sure?”

“Well, he’s not a demi god so I have that over on him at least. Let’s keep it that way so please kill him,” she said nicely. She left Astra gaping after her while Aten stifled a laugh in his hand. “C’mon now,” and she said in Sihngari and led them up the stairs to Johanna’s well unused bed chamber. “You can stay here,” she said and pulled Rahab off her neck. “Keep an eye on them, brother,” she put him down between the two hatchlings.

“Layali,” he complained pitifully.

“You’ll be fine,” she said and went back down to where Astra and Aten were talking. “They’ll be safe with me,” she said, they stopped talking.

“Thank you,” Aten said.

“I cannot keep them forever,” she continued.

“I know.”

“It must be _soon_ ,” Layali continued. “I am not much longer for here.”

“What…?” Aten asked slowly and Astra grabbed his arm nervously. “You’re leaving us? What about the Hall?”

“The Hall doesn’t need me. I am very sick and I will get no better in this Tree. If I am to get well I need to go out and find something to make me well.”

“How long do we have?” Astra asked nervously.

“How long will it take you to kill that thing? And the rest of the things in that warren?”

“The rest? I don’t know what you’re talking about-

“Just because I look younger than you, Astra, doesn’t mean I am and I’m not a fool. I know that more than a necromancer and Savathün lurks in the Warren. There are things in that deep place and I want you to take care of Azazel _and_ those things.”

“… I… those things are monster, Layali. I couldn’t… I wouldn’t even know where to begin.”

Layali folded her arms, not impressed. “That is something you must figure out. Azazel isn’t a dragon, it is an infection. If there is something else it can burrow into it will. This time it took the guise of an Imperial. Next time it will be something else. You must starve it.” Astra looked at her helplessly as if she realized just how out of her depth she was.

“That’s why he’s been doing this,” Aten said softly. He looked down at Astra and wrapped an arm around her slight shoulders. “He needed something powerful to… possess, if what you say is true?”

“How do you know this?” Astra asked, “You stay in this tree all the time. How could you possibly know about Azazel what I do not?”

Layali smiled a little. “I am a Seer, Astra. I can See all sorts of things, I know all sorts of things, and they’re true. They’re all true. Seeing is not just future-sight, it is true sight, and I have that as well. I know _everyone_ in my territory, I know what and who you are, I know if you’ll hurt us, or if you want to be with us.”

“Then why have you done _nothing_ this entire time!?” Astra snarled.

“I told you. I’m very sick.”

“Well Johanna could have done something-

“Johanna is better not risking her life to take down a singular evil. I need her. She protects me and all of us and if something happened to her then the rest of the Hall would be at risk. I would sacrifice two to keep the rest of the Hall safe.” Astra’s eyes shined with furious tears and Aten kept her tight to his side. Layali had told him this already. She did feel bad about this. That she hadn’t helped more, that she couldn’t have rescued them. But Johanna was her mother. She couldn’t risk Johanna’s safety when it was the only thing keeping Azazel in that hole in the southern part of her territory. He didn’t respect her power. But an ancient paladin that was Johanna? He was wary.

“If any harm comes to my children-

“They will be fine,” Layali cut Astra off. “Now consolidate yourself, execute your plan, kill that thing, and make sure it can’t get away.”

“Have you see me do it?” Astra asked softly.

“Yes.”

“Do I do it?”

“Knowing the outcome changes it because the future is not constant. I will just say you have a very good chance of accomplishing your goal and more you didn’t even know you needed to accomplish,” she said simply.

“Their names of Ilia and Ado,” she said. “Keep them safe,” and Astra slipped out from under Aten’s arm and left the Tree.

Aten looked torn between the two of them. “Go on. She needs you and I have nothing for you to do. Lianna will be back soon. You don’t want to be here when she returns.”

“Thank you,” Aten said again and fled after his sister.

Layali went back up to where Rahab was watching the children. She found him having crawled up the wall and was using his tail to tease them so they were jumping up and down trying to grab it. Layali giggled seeing her brother acting like that. “Layali,” he said and his crest flared excitedly. He launched himself off the wall and spread his fin-like wings and landed on her shoulder with some trouble. “I don’t like them,” he said quietly.

“They’re babies.”

“Lianna will be mad.”

“I’ll deal with Lianna. It will be good for her.”

“Does this mean you’re staying longer?” he ventured.

“Yes.”

“Good,” he rubbed his face against her cheek. She gently patted him before sitting on the bed with the hatchlings. Ado and Ilia chirped at her and toddled over to investigate her better. She smiled as she petted them. Really was too bad about their parents, they seemed so nice. She sighed a little and did her best not to think about it. Now she just needed to wait for Astra to follow through. She knew she would but she wasn’t sure _how_ far she’d go. At the very least Layali knew that soon her territory would be without a demon.


End file.
